


Goodbye, Fare You Well

by eyesofshinigami



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Drinking, Fluff, It's all here folks, Language, M/M, Pirate AU, Sex, i fiddle a bit with history, larry endgame, mentions of switching, other tags to come i'm sure, sex will eventually happen okay, swashbuckling, the two pairings hinted at are relevant to the plot i promise, they're pirates people come on, work with me here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesofshinigami/pseuds/eyesofshinigami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Louis Tomlinson struck out to make his fortune, he had no idea this fortune would involve piracy on the high seas, himself as Captain of a stolen ship with a ragtag crew of good friends, and meeting the love of his life.  In retrospect, Louis should have given himself more credit.  After all, his mother always told him there wasn't much he couldn't do if he put his mind to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> All right, so. Everyone loves pirates, am I right? This fic was inspired by (and somewhat loosely based on) the story of the _Whydah_ , a real-life pirate ship captained by Samuel Bellamy during the Golden Age of Pirates. If you're in San Diego for the next couple of months, stop by the Natural History Museum and see the exhibit. Definitely worth a look-see. There are some liberties taken here and there, but I did my best with what I had at my disposal.
> 
> A special thanks to [LouisandHarryandLove](louisandharryandlove.tumblr.com), my beta and hand-holder who puts up with far more than she should have to. Another special thanks to my bff [Solitaire](solitaryendeavor.tumblr.com) with the research and the near-constant babbling about a fandom she cares very little about. *showers you both with kisses*
> 
> Title taken from this lovely sea shanty called [Goodbye, Fare You Well](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44zAkOFKae8).

There wasn't much that Louis Tomlinson couldn't do if he put his mind to it. His mother had often told him that he was resourceful and clever, despite his impulsive nature and his penchant for mischief. It was what had helped him keep his mother and seven sisters clothed and fed when there weren't too many other options. It was what made him decide to become a sailor and make his way to the colonies, to seek his fortune and meet the woman he decided to marry.

 

Which is why he was so confused by Eleanor's proclamation.

 

“What do you mean, your father refused?” he asked, shifting to face her. They had been resting under a tree, her smaller body tucked against his as they took in the warm summer sun. Now, he crossed his legs and sat across from her, brow knit and his mouth closed tight.

 

Eleanor brushed a curl from her face and looked down at her folded hands resting in her lap. “I meant what I said, Louis. My father says I cannot marry you. He says you are nothing but a penniless sailor and he will not have it.” She glanced up, lip tucked beneath her teeth and her eyes misty with tears. “I am truly sorry, Louis. I tried to reason with him, but he refused to listen to me.”

 

His gut tightened and he felt ill. “Do you think that it would help if I spoke with him? Perhaps explained a bit?” He had prospects and plans. He wasn't going to be a poor sailor forever! Louis felt almost insulted by the idea.

 

“I doubt that. You know my father, he's quite stubborn and once he has set his mind to something, it is difficult to change it,” she replied, picking at a blade of grass.

 

Louis huffed and folded his arms across his chest. This was not how he had imagined this conversation going at all. “Well, then I suppose I will have to show him otherwise, won't I?” He reached over to cup her face in his hand, his thumb tracing the shape of her cheekbone. “I promise that I will do what I can to convince him that I can be a good husband for you,” he murmured, voice gone soft. Eleanor was too lovely a girl for not to at least try.

 

He watched a smile creep onto her mouth, like the sun coming through the clouds after a rain storm. Warmth pooled in his belly when she nuzzled her cheek into his hand. “Perhaps you could offer to apprentice under my father? He is always looking for help and it would give you the chance to show him.”

 

Louis nodded, but he knew he wouldn't. Eleanor's father was not fond of him as it was and the idea of spending hours upon hours with the man made him a bit sick. Besides, doing an apprenticeship would take far too long. It could be years before he had amassed enough money to prove his capability and that was not acceptable.

 

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a long while, Louis lost in his thoughts as he held Eleanor's hand. He barely noticed that the sun was beginning to set, until she nudged him in the side. “Walk me home?” she asked with a sweet smile.

 

“Of course.” He helped her to her feet and kept their hands clasped as they made their way back to the main house. He walked her to the front door, where her father stood with his arms folded and a frown on his face. Louis swallowed the impudent remark waiting on the tip of his tongue and instead leaned close to press a chaste kiss against Eleanor's cheek. “Until next we meet,” he said, smiling when Eleanor giggled.

 

“Come inside, Eleanor. It is time for supper,” her father interrupted, using an arm to usher her inside. With one last frown in Louis' direction, her father shut the door with a loud _bang._

 

Once he was sure the door was closed and would not open again, Louis stuck his tongue out. He could barely fathom how such a horrible man was related to such a sweet, gentle girl like Eleanor. No matter, because he planned to take her away from all of this soon enough. That thought buoyed his sour mood into something a bit more pleasant as he turned to make his way down the path. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and started to whistle a jaunty tune as he walked.

 

The Calders lived a considerable distance from town, which gave Louis plenty of time to be alone with his thoughts. Eleanor's suggestion of apprenticeship was completely out of the question, and he had already asked around town to see if anyone could use his services. Not that he had much to offer outside of his knowledge of sailing, but he was a strong lad and was willing to work. Too bad that it had proved a bit fruitless. It was times like these that he wished his mother was not a sea's distance away. She would know what to do. Perhaps he would write her a letter once he reached his room at the inn.

 

He refused to let himself get discouraged. After all, he was clever and resourceful. His mother told him so.

 

–

 

Twilight had fallen by the time Louis reached the edge of town, the torches already burning in the distance. He could still see people bustling about, finishing up their chores for the day. For such a small village, it always seemed to be busy and bustling with activity. Much of that could be attributed to the nearby port, the same one that Louis had arrived in two months ago. Had it really been that long? Time went by far too fast for his liking, it seemed.

 

He trudged his way up to the run-down inn that he was currently staying at and cringed when he saw the candlelight through the window. He had hoped to avoid the innkeeper. Perhaps it was just another patron and Louis' luck would hold. The door let out a mighty _creak_ as he opened it up, wincing at how loud the sound was in the empty hallway. He began to tiptoe towards the stairs, until a booming voice made him stop short.

 

“Tomlinson! Where have you been all day? Working to pay off your debt, I should hope!”

 

Louis sighed and turned around towards the source of the sound. A small, round woman stood with her hands firmly planted on her hips, mouth curved down in a disapproving frown that his mother would be proud of. “Of _course_ that was what I was doing, Maggie! Just having a spot of trouble in finding work, is all,” he said sweetly, hoping to disarm her with his smile.

 

If the way she eyed him, it appeared that he had failed. “I do not believe you for a single second, Tomlinson. You were down at the Calder farm! I can tell by the flush in your cheeks.”

 

“It was chilly out,” he defended lamely.

 

Maggie waggled a bony finger at him, her frown deepening. “Such a saucy mouth you have! You cannot lie to me, I raised six lads on my own, I did! I know when a lad has been in the company of a pretty young lady. And I bet her father gave you the boot, didn't he?” When he glanced down at his shoes, she let out a cackle. “Perhaps if you spent more time looking for work, he would let you court her proper.”

 

Louis' head jerked up, his face heating up.“I have tried, Maggie. There is no work to be had!”

 

“Huh! Such a lie. Have you tried the docks? Or mayhaps that boat you came in on would take you back. I think your problem is that you're a bit big for your breeches. Think good hard labor is beneath you, you do.”

 

He bit his lip and took a sharp breath in through his nose. He felt like he was being scolded by his mother. That was not what he thought at all; he just saw no reason in fruitless labor. What good did it do him if he was paid mere shillings, just enough to settle his debt with the inn and maybe buy a scrap of bread?

 

“You better have your debt settled by the end of the week, Tomlinson, or I'll give you a swift kick right out onto the street. This ain't no poorhouse I'm running,” Maggie said with a curt nod, just before she disappeared into the kitchens. Louis was left standing in the hallway with his mouth agape.

 

Now what was he going to do?

 

With a frown and a heavy heart, he made his way up the stairs to the small room he had called home for the last two months. He shut the door hard enough to rattle it on its rusty hinges and he flopped onto the bed, pushing his face into the musty pillow. He wanted to scream, or punch something, or get rip-roaring drunk until he could barely stand. Unfortunately, he hadn't the coin for the latter, so he settled on screaming into the pillow until his voice grew hoarse and achy.

 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered after he had turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

 

Maybe coming to the colonies had been a mistake. No, he could not say that with a clear conscience. After all, if he had not journeyed here, he would never have met Eleanor. It was merely his frustration overwhelming him. He sat up and took a steadying breath as he put his feet on the floor. He just needed to think harder. Glancing around the tiny room, he knew that he would not find his answer here. It was too late to go another walk, so he decided on the next best thing.

 

The tavern it was, then.

 

–

 

The Painted Badger was a small, dingy little place, right on the edge of the docks. It was the first place Louis had visited when he had made landfall, and he could always rely on it for a good time and a decent meal. Preston, the barkeep that ran it, was rather fond of him and often slipped him an ale or two and some bread with a wink. Louis always offered to repay him when he could, but the man always waved him off. It was, well, nice.

 

The place was lively, busier than Louis could ever remember seeing it. He could hear the din clear through the night as he approached. A larger ship must have docked and its crew had decided to celebrate there, if he had to guess. Good. Perhaps that meant that Louis could find what he was looking for. He entered through the front door and the full weight of the commotion hit him like a solid wall. The small building was near stuffed to the brim with faces he didn't recognize. Many of the men were already well into their ale tankards, if the redness in their cheeks and the dopey smiles on their faces were anything to go by. Louis squeezed through the crush of bodies to make his way to the bar, where a rather disheveled Preston was setting down another barrel.

 

“This place is a madhouse!” Louis called out over the noise, taking a seat on one of the tall stools. “What is the occasion?”

 

“Two large ships docked in the harbor just before evening fell. Both their crews decided to kip in for a bite and a brew. They're drinking like fish!” Preston replied with a loud belly laugh. He wiped his brow and gave Louis a wink.

 

So he had been right after all. “Seem like a lively bunch.” He could hear a couple of men in the corner leading a rousing and filthy chorus as they drank deeply from their tankards. “No problems, though?”

 

Preston shook his head as he grabbed a tankard and began to fill it. He pushed it towards Louis, who took it with a nod. “None so far. I figure I keep the ale a'flowing and it shan't be anything. Are you staying for a bit? Might need your help moving these barrels up from the cellar. Me old back isn't what it used to be.”

 

“Of course. Least I could do for the drink, I think,” Louis replied with a wink. He took a sip and winced at the taste, still not used to the sharp taste of Preston's brew. It wasn't like what he was used to back in London. He took another swig and he took the opportunity to look around. The crowd seemed to be exactly what one would expect; sailors and ruffians enjoying their night inland. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

 

At least, until he noticed a man in the back corner. He stood out like a sore thumb amongst the pale faces of the tavern. His skin was a richer tan than that of his crewmates and his sharp, dark brown eyes were smudged black. His clothing was bright and looked gauzy, like it was made for warmer weather than they saw here in the colonies. The golden jewelry on his fingers and ears twinkled under the candlelight and glistened against the darkness of his skin. He did not look like he belonged with this mish-mash of men who clearly made a point not to look at him.

 

He intrigued Louis immediately. Perhaps his curiosity was getting the better of him, but he had never once set eyes on a man like him in his entire life. If he had to guess, he would say he might be one of those savages from the East, like the ones that English kings had fought in days long past. He grabbed Preston by the arm to get his attention. “Who is that man in the corner there?”

 

He didn't miss the way that Preston frowned. “Not sure, if I'm honest. He has done nothing but sat there since he arrived, just a'watching. I didn't like the looks of 'em, but to afraid to say anything. As long as he keeps to his own, I'll leave him be.”

 

That really was not the answer that Louis was looking for, but he just nodded. He took another sip from his ale and tried to keep an eye on him. Louis could only wonder what he was doing here, in this small village where he clearly didn't belong.

As if he heard his thoughts, the strange man turned and fixed Louis with an unnerving stare that sent a bit of a chill up Louis' spine. He spun around on the bench and stared at the wall, but Louis could feel the heaviness of those dark eyes on his back. He cursed his own stupidity and ducked his head down.

 

A scraping his noise at this left and the swishing sound of unfamiliar, brightly colored fabric caught his attention and Louis hoped that he had not brought trouble upon himself. He glanced up, unsurprised to find the stranger sitting next to him.

 

“Was there something I could help you with?” The stranger's voice was thick and heavy with an accent that Louis had never heard, but his English was almost impeccable. It shocked Louis into forgetting how to get his tongue to work. “I could not help but notice the way you were looking at me.”

 

“No, nothing at all. Just...” Louis tried, but the stranger interrupted him.

 

“Just what? What was it that made you stare like you were?”

 

Louis repressed a shudder at the very thinly veiled threat, hiding beneath the accent. Still, despite the fear growing in the pit of his belly, he could not deny the thrum of curiosity burning inside of him. “Curiosity, really,” he said before he could think better of it. He cringed and hoped to God that he did not sound as stupid as he feared he did.

 

The stranger stared at him for a long moment before he broke out into a laugh. Louis stared, wide-eyed, as the man struggled to compose himself. When he sat back up, the man was wearing a smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes and showed his dazzling white teeth. “A better answer than I could have hoped for, if I am honest. Zayn Malik.” He held out his hand.

 

Louis stared at it for just a moment before he gathered his wits enough to return the handshake. “Louis Tomlinson,” he replied. “Forgive me for my rudeness, I just have never seen a man who looks like you before.”

 

Zayn waved his hand, looking unconcerned by Louis' admission. “An oddity in this part of the world, I am sure. I would rather your stares than your steel.”

 

“I haven't the coin to afford a sword even if I chose to draw one,” Louis replied with a cheeky smile, shaking the empty purse at his hip. “So you needn't worry about that. What brings you to this humble little port, if I may ask?”

 

“The ship I was hired by was in desperate need of supplies and we were forced to stop. The captain refused to see reason when I told him a week ago that we would not make it back to France, so here we are,” Zayn said bitterly. “Why hire a man with my skills if you are going to choose to ignore them?”

 

“Utter foolishness,” Louis agreed, taking another sip of his ale. “Hired? Are you a mercenary?” He did not even bother to hide the eagerness in his voice. Perhaps this dark-eyed stranger would be the answer to his predicament.

 

Zayn grinned again, the bitterness forgotten. “With the right coin, I suppose I could be. The answer to your question is no, not for the moment. I am, how should I say, a privateer?”

 

“So you are a pirate?”

 

“No. I am exactly as I say I am. I was hired to navigate, since it would seem I was the only man with the ability to read a map when the captain was picking his crew.”

 

Louis shared in the humor there. Whoever this man was, he certainly was no savage. For once, Louis was pleased that he had been wrong. “Where were you hired? And how?”

 

Zayn kept silent at first, studying Louis with those dark, dark eyes for a long enough moment that it made him want to squirm. Finally, Zayn shrugged as if he had decided something Louis would never be privy too. “In Nice, France, I think? I had made my way there through my travels and decided that to put the knowledge I had gathered to good use. It certainly wasn't the money that intrigued me, and I had no need for it.” He jingled the bag hidden under his tunic with another sharp smile. The heavy _clink-clink_ of its contents did not escape Louis' notice. “I suppose I was hoping for a bit of adventure and found only problems.”

 

The words whirled through Louis' brain like a hurricane. He wasn't sure what sort of fate was smiling down on him for the happenstance that led Zayn to being here this evening. A plan began to formulate in his brain and he had the distinct feeling that the other lad would be willing to listen. “I see your predicament. So, in your travels, what would you say to a man who might be looking for both adventure and a bit of coin?”

 

Zayn raised an eyebrow. “I would say that privateering is a thankless venture and not worth the trouble. A man looking for what you speak of might be better off becoming a pirate.” That calculating stare was fixed on Louis again, but Louis was too preoccupied to let it bother him.

 

“A pirate, you say. Well, if I were to propose such a venture where a man, like myself, would turn to such endeavors, where would I start?” Louis asked, feeling hope and possibility swirling in his gut. He had heard the stories, knew the tales told to children so as not to fall prey to such moral destitution, but Louis' mind was clouded with thoughts of amassing a fortune and proving to Eleanor's father that he _could._

 

Understanding set Zayn's eyes alight and his mouth curved up into a sly smirk. “I would say that a man like that would have to find another man with money to spare and a taste for travel. A man who might have knowledge and understanding of the sea and how to navigate them.”

 

“And if that man knew how to sail, and is prepared to go the lengths to find a proper crew and a boat in order to quench that thirst, and make enough money to sweep his lady love off her feet?” Louis continued, his voice rising a bit in pitch. Excitement bubbled in his veins and he felt a bit light-headed at the rush he felt.

 

“I would say that perhaps these two men should strike a compromise that would suit them both,” Zayn finished.

 

Louis nodded and scratched at his chin, thoughts zipping through his head as he considered Zayn's words. Could he really do this? Find a crew and a boat and sail the seas, sinking ships and plundering them of their treasure and goods? He felt a little shaken at the prospect, but more than that, the possibilities of taking care of his family and being able to marry Eleanor made it very, very tempting. “How about it, my fine compatriot? Join up with me, find us a proper ship, and set out to make our fortunes?”

 

“I do not need the fortune, but I do like the sound of the freedom a ship of our own would bring. Besides, you are a far better companion than the entirety of the crew I am traveling with at present,” Zayn replied, his eyes half-lidded in thought.

 

Louis felt like his entire body might burst in expectation and he fought not to fidget in his seat. In the short time he had spoken with Zayn, he could tell that it would be tough to persuade the other lad if he didn't agree, but Louis was nothing if not stubborn.

 

After what seemed like ages, Zayn spoke again. “If I am to agree to this, you must promise me that you will treat me like an equal. So far you have been nothing but kind, but I understand that I am a means to an end for you-”

 

“Look, mate, if I am honest, you intimidate me. I see no problem with the two of us working as partners. It isn't like I have any standing to hold over you, nor do I see myself being able to force you to do anything in any way,” Louis interrupted, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I have no doubt in my mind that if you wished, you could easily dispose of me and be on your way.”

 

Zayn seemed satisfied with his speech and he nodded. “That is true. But I find that I like you, Louis. So, here is what I think we should do. You should come with me on the _Through the Dark._ We are bound for France. From there, we can make our way to one of the ports more infamous for less than savory clientele,” Zayn said with a wink. “Somewhere like Ireland should be a good place to start.”

 

“Why Ireland?” Louis asked, finishing off his tankard and pushing it away.

 

“Roaringwater Bay would be the best place to find what we're looking for. It's home to a rather infamous port for the sort of ship and crew you're looking for.”

 

It was in that moment that Louis was infinitely grateful for Zayn's vast wealth of knowledge. “I can see why you are such a prized navigator. Your knowledge is astounding.”

 

“You must understand that it was mostly out of necessity. I am far from my homeland, much farther than you are. I had none but myself to rely on. I was fortunate that my coin is plentiful enough to find people to teach me your language and teach me how to read maps. I've got quite a skill at drawing them as well.”

 

Louis listened with rapt attention, still in awe of the man before him. “That is truly amazing. You are quite the find.” He didn't miss the small, pleased flush that dusted Zayn's cheeks. “So, if we are to see this become a reality, what do you suggest we do?”

 

Zayn stood up and motioned for Louis to follow. “You need to speak with Captain Cowell. I'm sure that he would be able to take you on until we reach Nice. It will not be much, but perhaps better than you are faring here?”

 

Louis quietly nodded, drifting back into thought as they made their way out of the tavern and onto the docks. He could feel the sway of it beneath his feet, the sounds of the waves against the aging wood filling his ears. The boards groaned with each step they took as Zayn lead him down to the furthest edge of the docks. There, bobbing in the shallows like a cork, was a beautiful, immense frigate that made Louis bite his lip. It was a gorgeous vessel and he itched to put his hands on her. “Cargo vessel?” he asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Amongst other things. Mostly cargo, though. I had mistaken it for a slaving vessel when I first came aboard, but was pleased to find otherwise.”

 

The implication hung in the air, and Louis had to agree. If it had been a slaver, they both knew where Zayn would have been making the voyage, no matter how skilled he may be. “She's beautiful,” he remarked finally, as they climbed aboard. “Your captain must be a skilled sailor to bring her so close to shore.”

 

“She's more than she looks. Captain Cowell is a man of many talents, and all the stubbornness of a mule. If he wanted to bring her ashore, he would do so without much thought,” Zayn replied, motioning Louis towards the cabin at the aft end of the ship. Lights were burning through the glass windows; it seemed the Captain had chosen not to join his men in their merriment.

 

As though reading his thoughts, Zayn remarked, “Captain Cowell chooses to stay on the ship. Says he has no use for the foolishness that his men so favor.”

 

“He sounds like a real delight.” Louis muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Zayn to hear. It garnered him a chuckle, which made Louis smile. “Shall we? I need to return to my room to gather my things and write a letter to my lady of where I have gone off to.”

 

“Of course.” Zayn knocked on the wooden door of the cabin and waited a beat or two before opening it. Delicious smells wafted out the open doorway that made Louis' mouth water. It had been too long since Louis had enjoyed a proper meal. “Captain? May I speak with you?”

 

“What do _you_ want?” a cross voice called out from within the cabin. It was enough to make Louis jump, but Zayn seemed unaffected by the harsh tone. “I thought you were with the rest of the crew at that godforsaken tavern. Found it not to your liking, Corsair?” The last word was almost spat out at them, like it left a horrid taste in the man's mouth.

 

Louis huffed out a breath. A snappy retort rested on the end of his tongue, but he reminded himself that he couldn't let his temper flare. The way men like Cowell talked about people different from themselves always made him angry.

 

Zayn ignored the slur. “In fact, I found something that might prove useful to you.” He waved Louis into the cabin.

 

A grizzled man with a sour face looked up at them from the plate he had been eating from. His dark eyes were cold and Louis could see the deep lines etched into skin from what he imagined was a near constant frown. “So you brought me a lad? Of what use would he serve to me, Corsair? I have no need for pretty young things in my cabin. Take your dandy elsewhere.”

 

Molten fury boiled inside Louis. How _dare_ he? Louis was no dandy! It was not his fault he was small of stature and his features were softer than most men. “Have you quite finished?” he asked angrily, folding his arms across his chest. “I did not come here to be your cabin boy.” The mere thought was enough to make bile rise in his throat.

 

The Captain's eyebrows shot towards his forehead and for a moment, Louis wondered if the man was going to lunge across the table at him. Instead, he cracked the faintest hint of a smile and set down the bread he had been eating. “I see. Quite the mouth you have. I find I get enough lip from the men of this ship, what makes you certain I would be willing to put up with yours?”

 

Louis looked at Zayn, who nodded in the Captain's direction. He inhaled sharply through his nose and reminded himself to stay calm. “Because, sir, I am a damned good sailor and I am willing to work. Your Sailing Master has informed me that you might be able to help me in my endeavor. I wish to make my way to France, and I hear that is your last landing.” He could hear the other man protesting his use of title for Zayn, but Louis plowed on before he could. “Even if I am to do nothing but swab the deck, it is better than what I might find here.”

 

Captain Cowell scratched his chin and tapped his fingers against the wooden table, the sound echoing in the now still cabin. Nervousness began to creep up over Louis as he waited; perhaps he was too forward? After what seemed an eternity, the Captain spoke. “Two shillings a week and you will do exactly what I say, do you understand? I will not hesitate to toss your sorry arse overboard if you prove useless to me. I will hear no complaint from you, either. I run a tight ship and my word is law. Understood?” he finished, pointing his finger at Louis.

 

“Yes sir,” Louis replied through clenched teeth. He supposed he should be grateful Captain Cowell offering him any coin at all, but he couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated. Means to an end, he told himself.

 

“Good. We set sail tomorrow morning, just after dawn. Settle your affairs and be here or you will be left behind. My ship waits for no one. Now, get out of my sight, the both of you.”

 

With one last nod, Louis strode out the cabin, Zayn close behind. He waited until the door was shut tight behind before his anger and distaste came pouring out of him. “What a horrible man! Zayn, please take care to remind me of this moment if ever I should treat a man in such a way when I am captain of my own ship!”

 

Zayn chuckled, patting Louis on his shoulder. “Thank you for your offense on my behalf, but it matters little to me what he thinks. As you said before, he is not but a stepping stone.” The wide, toothy grin was back and it soothed Louis somewhat. “Many men have said and done much worse. I ignore what he says and go about my business. I am sure now that things will be much different once we acquire our own crew and ship.”

 

The warmth that curled in his belly at Zayn's words surprised him. Once again, he found himself grateful that he had chosen to go The Painted Badger. “I quite agree.” He clapped Zayn on the back hard enough to pitch the man forward a little, earning him a small glare that only made him smile wider. “Now, here I must take my leave, for I have a room to sneak out of and a letter to write to inform my Eleanor of where I am going.”

 

Zayn's eyes narrowed for just a moment, but the look was gone before Louis could question it. “I shall meet you at the docks at dawn. Good night, Louis Tomlinson.” He bowed and disappeared off towards the bow of the ship.

 

For the second time that day, Louis found himself walking back to the inn, his heart much lighter than before. It would not take him long to gather his things and slip out unnoticed, after he wrote the letter to Eleanor. Of course, he would not tell her that he was off to become a pirate; he did not want to frighten her with the thought. He would merely tell her he was chasing his fortunes and would return to her a man worthy of her hand in marriage. He would deliver it to her window, where her father would not find it. Yes, he thought with a smile. That would do nicely. He already knew sleep would elude him, not when his brain was swirling with thoughts.

 

With the stars dotting the inky black sky and the moon guiding his way, Louis felt something close to happiness settle in his bones. It would see that Fate had finally smiled down on him and perhaps finally, something would go his way.

 

-END PART I-

 


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, there's past mentions of Zerrie, and a few implied characters that haven't been named.

Louis had forgotten how much he enjoyed the freedom that being out on the open sea gave him. He could not bring himself to mind the back-breaking work Captain Cowell gave him, not with the crisp, salty air and the steady rocking of the ship beneath him. He was pleased that it did not take him long to regain his sea legs. The wind was with them and the sky was clear above him as he finished scrubbing the deck clean.

“I wondered whether we would see the sun today,” a familiar, accented voice called out.

“Thank God for good winds,” Louis replied, dropping his dirty rag into the bucket next to his knee. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his clean hand and sat up. “After that storm the night before I wondered if we would run into any more bad weather.”

Zayn nodded, leaning up against the side closest to where Louis had been working. “Let us pray that the weather holds out. If we have not strayed too far from our course, we should be in Nice within a fortnight.” He pulled a map from the bag slung at his hip, the one that he had been working on just for the two of them. Louis climbed to his feet to get a better look. “From what I have charted, and from the map Captain Cowell lets me use, this is the route we should be traveling,” he explained, tracing his finger along a route drawn in a deep blue ink. “Perhaps it will prove useful in our future.”

“Right-o. Only two more weeks of this hell-hole and we shall be on our own!” Louis chucked Zayn lightly on the chin, making the other man grin.

Ten months trapped on this ship was too many, in Louis' opinion. It wasn't that the men were cruel to him, not like they were to Zayn, but there was a sense of 'every man for himself' here. Fights would break out over food, over coin, and tempers would rise before anyone could think better of it. Worse, Captain Cowell seemed unconcerned by the rabble-rousing that took place below the deck of his ship. Louis could see what Zayn had meant those months ago in The Painted Badger.

A sudden pang hit him low in his guts at the thought. He had left the letter for Eleanor and had hurried back to the docks so as not to miss the ship. Louis could only hope that she had read it and was waiting for his triumphant return to the village.

“You are staring into the distance again,” Zayn teased, drawing Louis' attention from where it had wandered over the horizon.

“Forgive me, I was lost in thought.” Louis knew he would; Zayn would often fix his eyes on the horizon and lose himself in whatever might be swirling about in his head. “So, my indispensable guide, have you put any thought into how we are to get from Nice to Roaringwater Bay?”

Zayn, too used to Louis' glib attitude, nodded and pointed to a smaller red line on his map. “By land or by sea?” he asked, as though he did not already know the answer.

“How very dare you! Of course by sea!”

“Most of the journey will be made by water as it is. We would have to take another ship to cross the Channel. I suppose I could pay our way onto a smaller ship than this one, one that would take us around England.” Zayn scratched at the dusting of scruff upon his jaw, biting his lip in thought. “Unless we chose to go by carriage or horseback once we made landfall in England, then find a ship to take us to Roaringwater Bay.”

Louis wrinkled his nose. He had never been particularly fond of carriage rides in his youth, but Zayn was the more knowledgeable of the two of them regarding travels. “Would either be faster?”

He shook his head. “Sea it is. I will see if any of my contacts in Nice will be of any use.” Zayn rolled up the map and slipped it back into its place within his bag. “I should return to the Captain, not that I am sure he is looking for me. I think he will just as pleased to see me go as I am to be gone.”

“I am sure the same could be said for me,” Louis added with a cheeky smile. Once Zayn had gone, he turned back to the bit of deck that he had been dutifully scrubbing. “Certainly won't miss this,” he grumbled to himself as he grabbed the rag from within the murky water.

–

The fortnight went quicker than Louis had expected. When he wasn't performing his given chores and Zayn was dismissed from his duties, the two of them would huddle together in their corner of the fo'c'sle, away from the rest of the crew. They would chart and plan and converse about what was to come.

“Tell me more about this port in Roaringwater Bay. Have you been there?” Louis asked, stretching out his sore legs. He had been down in the berth most of the day, shuffling crates about at the quartermaster's command. The quartermaster was a stout little man who took too much pleasure out of his position and he made it no secret that he detested Louis for reasons he could not fathom.

Zayn shifted back, pillowing his arms behind his head as he leaned against the wall. “No, but I heard tales of it during my time in London. If I'm honest, it sounds like a horrible place. All the tales you have heard of pirates were likely birthed from it. The village there, Dunashad, is quite infamous for its pirate dealings.”

“Like Tortuga?” Louis asked. At Zayn's nod, he continued. “I see. If it is so terrible, then why suggest it?” He couldn't help his intrigue at the prospect of such a place. He knew the tales and the warnings, well-versed in them before he set out for the colonies when the captains he learned under told him of the scourges of the seas. Still, Louis could admit that he had a bit of an unhealthy curiosity about what the life of a pirate might be like.

“Where better to find a crew willing to join up? You are not famous, you have no bearing as a sailor or as a captain. A place like that will have many looking to get on account and work without being enslaved.” His voice was even, but Louis could recognize the light in Zayn's eyes when he spoke of Dunashad.

“Just think, in a few days' time we will be free of this wretched ship and on our own. I will die a happy man if I never have to scrub another deck or move another crate as long as I live. You know, in all the time I have been here, I have done not one spit of sailing?”

Zayn laughed, his eyes crinkling. Louis enjoyed making Zayn laugh, watching it bloom onto his face like the rising sun. Too often he saw him with his head down and his fists clenched at his side when Captain Cowell and the others would speak to him. “I did warn you, if you remember.”

“Yes, yes, a minor detail. Seems such a waste, is all,” Louis sniffed, making Zayn snort with laughter again.

“It is what it is,” Zayn agreed, closing his eyes. Before too long, the soft sounds of his snores filled the space between them.

Louis was jealous of the other man's ability to fall asleep as easily as breathing. Too often he would find himself awake for what felt like hours, eyes wide in the darkness. He would listen to the sound of the men sleeping around him, finding no comfort in it.

Just like now. Thankfully, it was just he and Zayn for the moment. He pulled out the small, leather-bound journal that his mother had given him before he left for London, before he left for the colonies. He hadn't written much before he started this voyage, only the first two or three pages filled with details for the journey he and Zayn would make. He briefly entertained the idea of swiping one of Zayn's many quills and pots of ink hidden in his bag, just to give himself something to do, but he decided against it. The dim light swinging above their heads was less than ideal and he was feeling quite lazy. Louis slid the journal back into the pocket of his jacket, now tattered and stained from his time on the _Through the Dark_.

He leaned back and cushioned his head with his arms, falling asleep to the thought of convincing Zayn that he would need a sharp new coat if he was going to be a captain of his own ship.

–

Parting ways with Captain Cowell and the crew of the _Through the Dark_ was a quick and bloodless endeavor, much to both he and Zayn's pleasure. Money exchanged hands and that was that. Louis felt a bit of a spring in his step when the coins clinked together in his purse, a sound he had not heard in some time. It might not have been much, but the money was his and his alone. Overcome with happiness, he wrapped his arm around Zayn's shoulder, ignoring the looks they were getting from the people on the street. “Cheer up, my friend! This is what we have been hoping for since we left the colonies!”

Zayn gave him a hesitant smile and Louis did not miss the way that his eyes darted to and fro. It had not even occurred to him that this place might be less than welcoming.

Louis pulled him closer and made it a point to glare at any that stared too long at them. “Where exactly are these contacts that you spoke of?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“The market will be our best bet. If she is still in Nice, that is where she will be.”  
Louis stopped walking, his head buzzing with this new-found knowledge. “She?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, _she_.  Is there issue with that?” Zayn replied, voice soft and slightly dangerous. It was not a tone that Louis had heard directed at him before. How Captain Cowell had not caved beneath it was a mystery.

“No, none. I... I suppose I was merely surprised, is all.” He hoped the explanation was enough to soothe whatever danger he had stirred in his friend. “Forgive me, I meant no offense.”

It worked. Zayn drew in a slow breath and released it, the tension leaving with the rush of air. “Of course. I just take offense on her behalf, sometimes. There are many that would be pleased to see her fail, merely because of what lies betwixt her legs.”

Louis was not enough of a fool to hear what Zayn wasn't saying. He only nodded and they continued on their way. “How do you know her?” he asked, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“She and I came here on the same ship from London. She was sat next to me in the living quarters we were given. We talked of many things, of my travels, my homeland, her aspirations, and her unwillingness to settle for a husband and children,” Zayn recounted with a chuckle. The fondness was evident in the smile on his face. “Her father sent her away to France in hopes she would join a convent, but no such luck, I am afraid.”

“Were you lovers?” Louis asked bluntly.

Color flooded onto Zayn's cheeks and he refused to look at Louis. “For a brief time. I meant what I said when I told you she refused to settle. She had no interest in traveling with me, and I did not want to stay here. There were other places I wished to see, as far as my coin would allow.”

Louis pinched Zayn's side, making the other man yelp and jump away from him. It worked, drawing Zayn out of his melancholy thoughts. “You great sap. I am almost embarrassed to be seen with you now.”

“Says the man still pining for a woman he only knew for a week before he left on his grand adventure,” Zayn reminded him drily.

“True love knows no binds nor distance!” Louis crowed dramatically, flinging his arms into the air. He stumbled a bit when Zayn shoved him forward, but that didn't deter him too much. “True love prevails when all is lost, when the sky grows dark and the rains come, it is the sun through the clouds-”

“Praise be that your ambitions are for piracy and not poetry,” Zayn interrupted, just loud enough for Louis to hear. He grabbed Louis' arm and pulled them towards the entrance to the bustling market to their left. “This way, you menace.”

He followed behind Zayn, taking the opportunity to look around. It had seemed like forever since Louis had been in a city, after spending his time in the little village and on the ship. Seeing the crowds of people and hearing their chatter made him a bit homesick for London. He hadn't lived there for very long, but he much preferred the whirlwind activity to the quiet standstill of the countryside.

He would have to learn to like it, though. Once he returned to the colonies, there would be none of that, he sharply reminded himself. He ignored the niggling disappointment that accompanied that thought and instead turned his attention to Zayn, anything to distract himself. “Are we looking for something in particular?” he asked, hoping his voice would be heard over the din.

The market was busy, even as late in the morning as it was. He could hear people talking and haggling, if their tones were anything to go by. Louis spoke not a single word of French, but it was interesting and he had to fight not to eavesdrop.

“Did you hear me? I asked-”

“I heard you,” Zayn interrupted, but he still did not answer Louis' question. Instead, he glanced around the myriad of stalls and vendors, dark eyes searching. Something must have caught his eye, because he grabbed Louis around the wrist and pulled him through the crowd. “This way.”

Louis gave a brief thought for questioning where they were going, but he decided against it. He did not want to get lost in the throng of people that were still moving around them. Elbows shoved themselves into his sides and once or twice he felt an unwelcome hand on various parts of his body. It was wholly unpleasant.

They managed to break through the crowd, much to Louis' relief. Zayn had stopped them outside of a little stall, tucked into the corner of an alleyway. One could easily overlook it if they did not know what they were searching for. A lovely girl with dark brown hair and pretty skin the color of creamed-coffee sat at a table, looking bored. When she noticed Zayn standing there, her eyes widened and she sat up. “Non, it cannot be!” she cried, standing up and wrapping her arms around Zayn.

To Louis' surprise, he returned the embrace with the softest smile he had ever seen on Zayn's face. “Thank you, Jade. Is Perrie here?”

She nodded eagerly and motioned towards the tent, patched and dingy but remarkably homey looking. “She is that way. She will be pleased to see you here!”

Confused, Louis turned to Zayn, who must have read the question on his face. He smiled and motioned for him to follow him inside the tent, rather than answer. With a resigned sigh, Louis dutifully followed behind Zayn, startling when the flap closed behind them.

The tent was dimly lit and the air inside was heavily perfumed with a scent that tickled Louis' noise. Lanterns hung from thick cords strung from end to end of the small space, giving it an almost eerie glow. He had to wonder what sort of place Zayn had lead him into. In the middle of the open space was a round, scarred wooden table and at it sat a woman. Upon hearing them, she looked up and her eyes widened. Her blond hair was plaited and tucked into the crook of her neck, almost blending in with the shock of her pale skin. She looked like nothing Louis would have imagined an acquaintance of Zayn to look.

“Well, as I live and breathe. I did not expect to see you here any time soon,” she said, her accent making Louis smile. It was thick and familiar, reminding him of his mother's. “I thought you were on a ship, bound for the colonies?”

“I was,” was the only explanation Zayn gave as he took the other seat at the table. “And now I am here. I need your aid, Perrie. I need to secure a ship to take us to Ireland.”

Her mouth pursed tight and her eyebrows furrowed as she folded her hands on the table, over the papers scattered about the surface of the table. Curiosity made Louis want to read them, to learn about this mysterious woman in front of him, but he had a feeling that Zayn would end up scolding him for it. Instead, he sighed and focused on the two of them.

“Why?”

Zayn sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I suppose not. I have an inkling of why, and I would rather not. What sort of ship are you looking for?” she asked, sounding resigned. She shuffled the papers around on the table, careful not to meet Zayn's eyes for longer than a moment.

“A small vessel. Something small and easily disposable once we reach the Bay,” Louis broke in. He could feel Zayn's sharp eyes on him, assessing, but he plowed forward. “Preferably something that can be steered by just the two of us.” While Zayn might know people, Louis knew ships. It also gave him something else to do besides suffocate in the thick fog between the two f them.

“And you are?” Perrie asked sharply, the same frown returning to her face. Louis frowned back.

“Louis, madam. I am Zayn's current traveling companion. Now, do you have a ship for us to use, or shall we take our business elsewhere?”

Both Zayn and Perrie looked at him, mouths agape. Perhaps he needn't be so harsh, but they were wasting time they could be using to sail to Ireland on this woman and her petty jealousy over him, of all things. Helping to raise seven girls had left him with little patience for such silliness.

Silence fell over them and Louis grew agitated. Zayn must have been able to tell because he broke the silence before Louis' sharp tongue could. He placed a bag of coins from within his belt onto the table with a clink that echoed through the tent. “There is no one else whom could help us on such short notice and I would rather support you in your endeavors, you know that. Will you be able to procure us a ship?” he asked, voice much more even than Louis'.

Perrie seemed to considered it, her blue eyes still boring into Louis' own. Fine, let her attempt to stare him down. Finally, she huffed in annoyance and turned her gaze back to Zayn. “There's a small fishing vessel down at the port, docked between two larger ships. Your coin will more than cover it.” She handed Zayn a slip of paper that she had unearthed in her shuffling. “Show the dock manager this. He'll let through with no issue. There are provisions aboard for at least three months, as well as clean water and a solid place to sleep.”

A hundred questions were on the tip of Louis' tongue, but Zayn did not give him the chance to ask them. He took the paper and tucked it inside his shirt before he gave her the briefest of bows. “Thank you.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, but Perrie waved them off. Her head was down and Louis could see the small shake of her shoulders.

They left the tent after a short goodbye to Jade, who disappeared inside the tent once the two of them were back out onto the street.  
“Zayn, are you all right?” Louis tried, catching up to Zayn's quick pace.

His query was met with silence, until Louis could take it no more. Once they were free of the commotion of the market and out onto the main street, Louis grabbed Zayn by the arm and forced him to stop. “None of this. Now, are you all right?”

All of the tension that had coiled in Zayn's body fell away, leaving him looking more tired and sad than Louis had ever seen him. “I am not sure what I expected, but...” His voice trailed away as he bit his lip, eyes trained on the cobblestones beneath their feet. “I had forgotten how much I had hurt her by leaving. Despite her claim, I think we would have wed had our stubbornness not won out.” With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and gave Louis a sad smile. “What's done is done. Shall we explore our new acquisition?”

Many more questions still plagued Louis' mind, but for now, he kept them to himself. Zayn was in no temperament to answer them and they did need to make haste. Neither of them wanted to waste any more time here. “Lead the way.”

–

The docks were just as busy as the market had been, the shouts of men and the acrid smell of fish guts assaulting them as soon as they were nearby. The stench was still as bad as when they had first arrived that morning on the _Through the Dark_ , possibly worse as the afternoon sun was high in the sky. They tried to hurry down towards where their new boat was moored, but were stopped by a large man. “Papers?” he asked, accent thick.

Zayn produced the paper from where had tucked it, offering it to the man.

He eyed Zayn with an expression that Louis didn't like at all. He cleared his throat, drawing the man's attention to him. “I am to guess you are the dock master?” he asked loftily. At the man's nod, he continued. “Then why have you not checked our papers already?”

The man grunted and tore the paper from Zayn's grip, barely looking at him before he started to glance over what was in his hand. Moments passed before he handed it back to Louis, not Zayn. “You and your slave may go through.”

Anger roiled through Louis at that, but the man was much bigger and stronger than either of them, and he did not want to make a scene. He wordlessly handed it back to Zayn and pushed past him. His fists clenched tight at his side and he grit his teeth as they walked down to the docks. “How dare he?” he managed to ask.

“You should have expected that, Louis. I do not understand why you are surprised,” Zayn replied, sounding uninterested. “It matters not. There are too many small-minded men in this world for me to fret when one of them makes themselves known. I am nearly a prince in my homeland and I have more money in my purse than he will earn in his meager life. Do not let it ruin your mood.”

“It just disgusts me.” Louis knew that Zayn was right, but it still upset him. Zayn was his friend, even if they had started out as only business partners, and the way that other people treated him was sickening.

This time, it was Zayn who wrapped an arm around Louis' shoulders. “None of that. Let us go and see our new boat, yeah?” And off they went.

Following Perrie's direction, they stopped in front of what Louis could only describe as a large dinghy. He could not even bring himself to call it a ship. The cabin was barely the size of a cabinet, at least by what he could see. It was small and rickety, like one good wind would capsize her before they made it out of the harbor. “You can't be serious.”

“It's... well. I suppose it will serve our purpose?” Zayn tried optimistically, but it fell flat. “Perhaps this is her revenge?”

“To kill you at sea? She must really have detested you after you left,” Louis grumbled, nudging the boat with his foot. “Well, it's all we have. Let us pray for good weather and swift passage.” He climbed onto the deck and walked towards the cabin, set at the bow. He opened the flimsy wooden door and glanced inside, surprised to see that it had enough space for one threadbare bed for sleeping and a pantry where Louis supposed all the provisions were. He wrinkled his nose and turned around to where Zayn was standing behind him. “How do you fare as a sailor?”

Puzzled, Zayn replied, “Decent enough. Why do you ask?”

He motioned towards the small living quarters. “Looks like we will each have to take a shift, in order to fit into the cabin.”

Zayn peered inside and looked around, brows furrowing. “Well, I suppose it serves its purpose. We did ask for a small boat just to get us there...”

“Still does not dispel the fact that we are going to be on this floating deathtrap for however long it takes us to get to Ireland,” Louis grumbled, slamming the door of the cabin perhaps a bit more than necessary. Means to an end, he reminded himself. This was but a stepping stone. Just... a really annoyingly small and sharp one. “Right. So, shall we set sail now? I would hate for us to be sucked beneath the hull of an _actual_ sailing ship before we make it out of port.”

Zayn snorted and shook his head, already unwinding the ropes that kept them moored to the dock. The wind was with them and pushed them out into the open water. Louis took his place at the tiller and took a moment to orient himself with the feel of it beneath his fingers. Yes, this was exactly where he needed to be. The true wind was blowing up from behind them and pushing them out into the spread of blue water before them. Louis let out a loud whoop that Zayn echoed from where he was unfurling the small sail.

They were finally on their way.

–

Roaringwater Bay was _nothing_ like Louis expected it to be. He had heard the tales of the unruly places where pirates gathered, but actually being there was a bit daunting. Ships of all shapes and sizes were moored in the water, towering over their little boat. Some of them looked like they had been through Hell and somehow made it back, scarred from what he guessed was cannon fire.

He swallowed the nervous feeling that crawled up his throat as he steered them through the water, his hand tight on the tiller. “This is...”

Zayn understood what Louis was trying to say, the open awe on his face as clear as crystal. “Yes,” he replied, moving closer to where Louis was steering. “Are we certain about this?”

“Bit late to change our minds now,” Louis joked, hoping to keep the waver out of his voice. “We will just have to take care and keep our wits about us.”

They drew closer to land and the village they were searching for came into view. Torches were lit along the beach and further up along where they buildings began. Their ship was small enough for them to make landfall further inland, out of the shallows where the other ships bobbed on the waves. They had every intention of leaving it behind, but Zayn had suggested that they tuck it away far enough to keep it mostly out of sight.

As soon as he could feel the bump of the boat against the sand, Louis hopped off. “It still escapes me that we managed to make it here in that thing,” he said, patting the side almost fondly. “But she served us well. That's what matters.”

Zayn just shook his head. “Come on, you. We need to make it into town before nightfall.”

It was a bit of a walk, but Louis decided it would give them the chance to get their bearings a bit.

- 

Darkness had begun to settle around them as they finally reached Dunashad, as rowdy and raucous as Louis had imagined it would be. Everywhere there were people singing, fighting, gambling, and drinking, sometimes in a combination of the four. No one even glanced at them as they walked, a refreshing change from everywhere else they had been so far. The two of them looked at each other and each breathed a sigh of relief at that, even though they both knew that didn't make this place any less dangerous.

It was all a bit overwhelming.

“Where do we even start?” Louis asked, avoiding the man getting sick over a side railing of the walkway.

Zayn glanced around before pointing at what appeared to be a tavern, but with the lack of sign they couldn't be sure. People were stumbling out of the the open doorway, bringing the din from inside with them. “As good as any, I suspect.”

Louis took a deep breath and nodded. He lead the way, weaving between people as best he could with all the bodies moving along the walkway. It wasn't easy; people milled about and once or twice a cheeky hand squeezed his bum. He would have whipped around and gave them a proper telling off, but he couldn't be sure who it was. Finally, the crush of people gave way to the entrance to the tavern and they slipped inside.

It was even louder inside. The place was dingy and crowded, and Louis' boots stuck to the floor as they walked. He supposed it was best not to think about what was coating the wooden planks. It smelled of too many bodies and old ale, which made him wrinkle his nose. “Now what?” he asked loudly, hoping Zayn could hear him.

He went to call again, when a solid body crashed into his, forcing Louis to take a step back as beer sloshed down the front of his shirt. “What the sodding hell!?” he yelled, before he could think better of it. Once he did, he clamped his mouth shut and prayed that the ruffian was in good spirits and wouldn't do anything rash.

“Sorry 'bout that, mate! Bit crowded in 'ere,” the lad said in a thick, Irish brogue, giving Louis a beaming smile. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle and his grin split his face in two. “It'll dry soon enough. 'Ow about you 'n yer mate join me 'n mine over there?” He waved at several boys and women sitting at a large round table in the corner of the tavern. “Let me buy ya a pint?”

Louis nodded dumbly, looking back at Zayn, who looked just as baffled as he did. They followed the man to the bar and Louis watched him clap a few of the men on the back or shoulder in a hearty greeting, or the saucy winks he gave the ladies that tittered behind their fans. Louis grabbed Zayn and hissed in ear, “This lad might be just the person we need! He seems well acquainted with the entire place!”

“I would agree. And he certainly seems more friendly than some of the others.”

When they reached the bar, the lad signaled the barkeep before addressing the two of them again. “So, what brings ya here? Sure I've ne'er seen yer faces before,” he asked, still smiling as he leaned against the bar.

Louis certainly appreciated his directness. The least he could do was be direct as well. “To be honest, friend, we are here seeking a ship and a crew who would be willing to go on account with a poor sailor seeking a fortune for his lady love and a stranger with a fondness for adventure.”

The lad doubled over and let out a booming laugh that startled Louis a bit. “A man after me own 'eart! Well, you've come t' the right place.” With a sweep of his arm, he bowed and tipped an imaginary hat to them both. “The name's Niall Horan, and I'll be glad to 'elp ya, if ya enjoy a pint or two with me and the lads.”

It wasn't a steep request at all. Louis looked at Zayn, who nodded back with a hint of a smile. “Sounds reasonable. I am Louis Tomlinson and this is my sailing master, Zayn Malik,” he said, returning the bow with a cheeky smile.

Niall seemed pleased and grabbed the large tankards in his hands, motioning for them to follow him towards the table. As they neared, Louis could hear the group singing a song that he had never heard, loud and drunk with ale and merriment.

_“It's all for me grog! Me jolly, jolly grog! It's all gone for me beer and tobacco! Well I spent all me coin always thinking with me groin, and now the ladies will spend what I have squandered!_.” Niall joined in as he slammed the tankards onto the table.

Louis sat down and grabbed his tankard, eyes watering at the first sip. “What in the name of God is this?” he spluttered.

Niall laughed and clapped him hard on his back. “Jus' drink up, me lad! Better get used t' it if yer expectin' to captain a crew.” He took a loud swig from his own tankard and slammed it back down onto the table, spilling the liquid everywhere. “So, tell me about this idea o' yers.”

“Well, Zayn and I are in need of a ship and crew, as we said. From the tales we have heard, we decided that this would be the best place to start. So, here we are.”

“We have enough coin betwixt us to hire a small crew and buy a ship, if such a thing were possible,” Zayn added, pushing the tankard away from him.

Niall eyed him for a moment, nodding to the tankard in question.

Zayn shook his head and pushed it towards Niall. “Forgive me, but it's forbidden.”

Louis held his breath and hoped that Niall wouldn't take offense. Thankfully, the Irishman let out a hearty laugh and clapped Zayn hard on the back, just like he had done to Louis. “Nothin' t' forgive! More for me!” Louis breathed a sigh of relief and shared a small smile with Zayn.

He motioned for the two of them to lean close, though Louis was sure that no one could hear them over the dirty song the rest of the group was singing around them. “What if I told ya that ya needn't buy a ship, but ya can _steal_ one?” Niall asked with a devilish grin.

An excited thrill shot through Louis like lightning. “Tell us more,” he replied, pursing his lips.

Niall laughed and pointed past them towards the bar, at a man that was rather extravagantly dressed, considering he was surrounded by cuthroat sailors and pirates. He stuck out, as did the beautiful man that he was currently deep in conversation with. The beautiful man laughed, tossing glossy curls as he twisted to the side in his mirth.

“That would be Captain Nicholas Grimshaw o' the _Lady Swift_ , th' finest ship I've seen through these waters in a good while. Sturdy lookin' and glossed to a shine,” Niall explained, breaking Louis' gaze from the beautiful man's smile.

He blinked, trying to regain his focus. Ships and captains, not men that looked too pretty to be real. What was wrong with him? “Which one is he?” he asked, clearing his throat.

Both Niall and Zayn gave him a knowing look, but thankfully said nothing about it. “Th' tall one. He's a bit o' an arse and he acts like he's th' king around here. Not too fond of him, meself.”

“We could tell,” Zayn replied with a snort. “He looks like a wanker, if I'm honest.”

“Zayn!” Louis clutched his hand to his chest in mock-offense. “Such words, if only I knew where you learned such foul language!” The three of them laughed and Louis knew, right then, that he needed someone like Niall aboard. It was just like meeting Zayn. If he were a more religious man, he would claim that God had lead him here, but he wasn't. “I do have to agree. Do you know the man that he's with?”

Niall shook his head, taking another sip of his ale, if one could call it that. “Seen 'em here before, but I've never spoken to 'em. Bit too posh for me and mine.” He cast one last glance to them at the bar before he turned around in his seat, motioning for the two of them to lean close once more. “Anyway, I say that we take th' _Lady Swift_ for ourselves. There's no way a git like Grimshaw deserves such a fine lady.”

“Ourselves, eh?” Louis asked with a sly grin.

Niall shrugged and returned it, tipping his tankard to Louis. “Ya seem like all right lads, and I did find ya a ship. Be a shame t' help ya out and just let 'er go like that.” He sniffed a bit and he added, “And it's not like I 'ave anything else t' do, if 'm honest.”

That was perfect. Louis looked at Zayn with his eyebrow raised in question. “Sounds okay.”

“It is decided then. So, what are we to do? I can honestly say that I have never stolen a ship before.”

“Well, ya've come t' th' right man, ya see. Stolen a few ships in me day,” Niall said with a cheeky grin. He drained the last of the liquid from his tankard before he grabbed Zayn's abandoned one. “We'll wait a bit, then sneak to the ship. Most o' th' crew should be 'ere on land, probably in this very pub. If we're lucky, th' only person we'll 'ave t' deal with is Captain Grimshaw, but that should be easy.”

Louis chanced a glance towards the bar, finding himself disappointed that the Captain and the pretty lad with him had disappeared. An unfamiliar feeling curled in his guts at that, but he did not let himself dwell on it. He had more important things to think about than brown curls and a dimpled smile. “Right. We'll need swords and a musket or two,” Louis said, turning his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“I can 'elp with that, too.” Niall smiled knowingly and gestured at the other lads at the table. “One little detail we need t' discuss before we go on. Me lads come with us. These boys will prove a good crew and you'll need th' help. Savvy?”

The table had gone quiet and Louis felt the weight of so many eyes on him. He wasn't sure, but he found himself trusting in Niall. “What do you say, lads? Are you willing to go on account with us with me as your Captain?” he asked, addressing the table at large. A beat of silence passed before the entire group erupted into cheers and whoops, which Louis took to mean a yes. “Seems settled to me, then.”

Zayn patted his shoulder and smiled, the one that pushed his tongue against his teeth and crinkled his eyes. “Congratulations on your promotion, Captain Tommo.”

Captain Tommo. He quite liked the sound of that. He felt his mouth pull up in the corners in what was probably a ridiculous smile. He'd actually done it.

“Cheers for Captain Tommo!” Niall called out, raising his tankard. The other lads at the table followed suit as the din began anew. They clapped each other on the back and swayed, breaking out into another song that Niall was cheerfully leading. Ale sloshed everywhere, but nobody seemed too concerned with it.

In the midst of the revelry, Louis grabbed Niall's arm and whispered, “When shall we depart?”

Niall glanced around, eyes flitting from face to face. Once satisfied, he licked his lips and grinned at Louis. “Give us an hour. Then you'll 'ave your ship, Captain.”

Louis nodded, his heart already beginning to thunder in his chest. He knew that this could go terribly wrong, ending in death and failure. Somehow, he thought as he glanced around the table, he felt like he needn't worry about that. Even Zayn, who had been silently watching their foolery earlier, had joined in the merriment. He was pretty good at going with his gut, and his gut told him he had made the right choice.

Just one hour. He could wait.

-END PART II-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dunashad or _Dun na Sead_ and Roaringwater Bay are real places, that were well-known spots for piracy. And please bear with me regarding Niall's accent... I'm not very good at it. :/
> 
> Some terms in case you didn't know:
> 
> fo'c'sle: or forecastle, which is a short raised deck at the fore or front of a ship. Often used for housing sailors  
> tiller: short piece of wood that turns the rudder, which is used to steer the ship.
> 
> If you like this, let me know over [here on Tumblr.](bandanasandband-tees.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Corsairs, for reference, were Muslim privateers that were often hired to attack Christian crews during this time period. I liked the idea, but somehow I didn't think Zayn would be down with that. XD 
> 
> Please feel free to share your thoughts, feelings, and concerns with me here on [my tumblr](bandanasandband-tees.tumblr.com)!


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